Visions of the Future
by Cybra
Summary: When Trelawney rushed into Dumbledore's office that night, he nor McGonagall suspected she truly saw Harry's fate.


Visions of the Future

By Cybra

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A/N: My muse is a meanie. I have returned to Harry Potter fanfiction after my one fic to write this little thing (and I have a few other ideas). And, yes, I finally _did_ learn how to spell "Severus".

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the wonderful writer J.K. Rowling. I hope she doesn't mind me playing with her toys. I promise to put them back!

To say that Minerva McGonagall cared not a whit for Sibyll Trelawney would be the understatement of the century. The Divinations professor's flighty and supposedly omniscient attitude constantly grated McGonagall's nerves. Not to mention the fact that McGonagall never believed any of Trelawney's predictions since none ever came true.

So when the supposed Seer burst into Albus Dumbledore's office late one evening while he and McGonagall were discussing whether or not it would be prudent to allow a few students who excelled in Transfigurations to have themselves registered as Animagi, the Transfigurations professor wasn't worried.

To her surprise, however, the normally flighty woman was still in her nightclothes, eyes wide with horror. She looked as if she'd witnessed something terrible, and McGonagall immediately tensed up. Cornelius Fudge could claim that You-Know-Who hadn't returned until he turned purple, but McGonagall trusted Dumbledore's word when it came to Him more than Fudge's.

"Sibyll, has something happened?" the Head Master asked, looking slightly alarmed at the intrusion.

"I – I had two visions…tonight!" The skin around her lips was white, the skin on the rest of her face only a shade paler. "About Harry Potter and…He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

McGonagall raised both of her eyebrows with worried interest. Trelawney's "visions" included the death of Harry once every month, but they _never_ showed the Dark Lord.

"Go on, Sibyll," Dumbledore told the distraught woman.

"It was a battlefield. You-Know-Who had his forces – Deatheaters, Dementors, and other dark creatures as far as my eyes could see! – assembled behind him and a large owl with feathers blackened by his dark magic on his shoulder. Our forces were outnumbered and would surely have been crushed!"

Biting her lip to keep from shouting at the woman to stop her theatrics, McGonagall quickly realized what Trelawney was actually saying. These _weren't_ the theatrics she used to try and impress others. These were the words of someone who had seen something truly terrible.

"But He didn't attack when Potter stepped away from our army, walking alone into the open with his owl on his shoulder. Potter challenged Him to a duel, making He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named swear on his own wand that his forces would not move until their duel had ended. Potter swore on his own wand that our forces would do the same."

Something that felt suspiciously like fear welled up within McGonagall. When a wizard swore something on his own wand, that oath could never be broken without dire consequences. The magic of the wand always made sure of that. Good or evil, the wizard always paid the price if he broke an oath made on his wand. That was the reason only _truly_ serious oaths were made that way.

"The two battled as the two sides watched. Even their owls took to the sky and fought! And then my vision split into two different outcomes!"

"Two?" _Now_ McGonagall was truly interested. Trelawney's predictions always had _one_ outcome, not multiple ones.

Dumbledore reached out and stroked Fawkes' breast feathers a bit nervously, as if he had a feeling as to what those two outcomes were.

"In the first, Potter and You-Know-Who cast equally powerful charms, and my vision ended with the knowledge that Potter had won but also died. In the second, Potter lost."

"He…_lost?"_ McGonagall gasped. If Harry lost in that duel, that meant that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would be free to…

She shivered as she thought about it.

"As he died, he said something to You-Know-Who, but I didn't catch it." Trelawney shook as she forced herself to remember her visions. "Then my vision flashed forward, and I saw an arrow that had been shot randomly. But then the arrow's path suddenly straightened, like someone had grabbed it and was guiding it. It struck He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named through the heart. I heard a voice – I think it was Potter's – tell Him something but I only caught 'You lose' right before the arrow changed to a wand and…" She stopped and closed her eyes at the remembered horror.

"And…?" prompted Dumbledore.

"And that voice cast Avada Kedaver. Straight into You-Know-Who's heart."

McGonagall exchanged horrified looks with Dumbledore. "Does that mean what I think it does, Albus?"

Dumbledore nodded grimly. "Yes. It means that Harry Potter's fate and You-Know-Who's are intertwined. They will fight each other in a last all-or-nothing duel, and, no matter who wins, the outcome will be the same:

"When one dies, the other will die as well."


End file.
